“That man, Mr. Castern is a good pianist to be sure. However, he isnota composer. Every note he plays was written by the gentleman beside me, Lord Hewitt.”
There was a general gasp and then louder mutterings all around the theater.
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded the theater manager.
“Since I do not wish to leave and since Lord Hewitt has agreed to explain this play to me, I shall take my seat and you may continue. I simply would find it difficult to sit here all night after hearing such a misrepresentation of Mr. Castern. If he had any decency, he, too, would not wish to be represented as something he is not, but apparently, he has no such qualms. You may now begin.”
She took her seat and glanced at Vincent. He was staring at her as if she had grown a third eye.
“You are —” he began.
Brilliance waited with trepidation, wondering what he might say.
“ — Amazing,” he finished at last. “Not only brave but downright fearless.”
Meanwhile, the auditorium was still full of rumbling as people discussed her interruption. The theater manager stared up at her for a long moment. Perhaps he would try to throw her out.
Finally, with an awkward bow, he disappeared behind the curtain.
“Do you know the Duke of Monmouth?” she asked Vincent, while keeping an eye on the duke’s box. The esteemed, older nobleman had his arms crossed and was eyeing his guests.
“Not personally,” Vincent said. “He no longer serves in the House of Lords.”
“His Grace has been in my home. I have dined with him at my father’s table. I shall send him a letter tomorrow. He should know what kind of person he is hosting in his theater box.”
The gaslights were dimmed, except for a few dotted here and there on the auditorium’s outer edge, and the red velvet curtain parted in the middle, swaying open.
“I do not know how to thank you,” Vincent said.
“That’s simple,” she told him. “You can explain to me what’s happening.”
Brilliance paused and wondered if she dared tell him what she really wanted. Then deciding to listen to her own counsel, she added, “And you may kiss me sometime before we part at the evening’s end.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Because of her bold request, Brilliance had put herself on tenterhooks for the duration of the play. Would he kiss her during the play, in the back of their darkened theater box?No. Perhaps in the carriage on the way home with Belinda pretending to sleep in the corner?No.
Finally, they reached her house on Piccadilly.
“The play was good fun,” she said as Vincent walked her to the door. “Even better for your answers to my questions.” She’d hardly been confused at all as the characters changed costumes and went from male to female and back again.
“I am glad you enjoyed it.” Vincent had barely spoken in the carriage. In truth, Brilliance wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
“Belinda, you may go in. I shall join you in a minute,” she told her maid.
As the door closed at her back, she looked up at him, silhouetted by the light of the newly installed gas lamps. “I was hoping ...”
Vincent pressed her back against the solid door and fitted his mouth to hers. At the same time, the front of him crushed the front of her. It was heaven!
She reached up and grabbed hold of him, knowing it could only last a second or two. Or five. Seven long, perfect, heart-pounding seconds later, he bit down gently on her lower lip, tugging it as he pulled away.
“Mm,”she said. “I missed that.”
“I missed you. And your taste. And your softness. Luckily, I know for a fact no one can see us from inside the house when we are against the door. Your reputation is safe.”
Knowing her parents hoped they would marry, she hadn’t even worried about that.
“Thank you for your consideration over my reputation,” she said. And if that was the case, then why not kiss again. She reached for him, but he hesitated.
